The Virgin Widow
by Sasukeluva 4eva
Summary: A story that takes place in the Meiji Era; Haruno Sakura- the virgin wife left widowed. Her attempts of suicide are thwarted however when a stranger saves her from certain death. But all she sees in him is her lost love... Will she ever see him for HIM?
1. Saviour

**a/n: 'Nother new one. Nuff said.**

**Disclaimer: IDNON, BIDTOS! That is all.**

* * *

_Summary (full): _

_The Meiji Era—a time where murderers and samurai run free. _

_Haruno Sakura—the virgin wife left widowed when her sword-wielding husband is slaughtered by an unknown assassin. _

_Her attempts of suicide are torn asunder, however, when a handsome stranger gives her further reason to live. _

_But as they grow to know one another, Sakura begins to notice the darker aura that shrouds him, and she starts to question her safety... _

* * *

_**S**_a_s_**u**k_e_**l**u_v_**a** 4_e_**v**a_ p_**r**e_s_**e**n_t_**s**_;_

_**The Virgin Widow**_

_Sasuke x Sakura AU Lemon Fanfic_

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Chapter 1

Saviour

* * *

Silver streaks of fair moonlight poured in through the transparent space where the dojo door used to be, clashing with the thin threads of water that slid down the young woman's cheeks; the once flushed ivory flesh was left pallid and gaunt with grief-stricken sorrow as she slowly gathered the courage to lift the blade from the floor, splattered with crimson liquid, the very same weapon that had ended her husband's life prematurely—the very same instrument that would lead to her demise, bring upon her untimely end as well.

Her small hands clutched the knife with so much force that her knuckles stretched her skin until it was an unhealthy shade of white, the blood draining from the flesh and oozing out of the crescent-shaped wounds her fingernails had carved into her palms.

They shook, terribly so, with both her despair, and her terror.

The pink haired maiden was horrified with what she had to do.

But it was necessary in order to protect the secrets of her recently murdered beloved, and she was willing to make such a commitment, such a profound sacrifice, in order to do so—even if she honestly wished to live life longer.

She did not want the fate of death at such a young age; she was barely out of pubescence, a ripe, tender eighteen year old, one that had yet to live life for so much more time—she did not wish to die.

Especially by her own hand; it was ironic to think that she had only just yesterday been gossiping with her 'girlfriends' about not wanting to fall victim to Kami's wrath—she would have rather ended her own life then seen to it that someone else took the initiative and responsibility upon their own shoulders.

That just hadn't seemed just, fair; oh, only now did she realise the true impact of her words.

But it was something that she could not simply back down from.

No, her husband had had many enemies in the time that he had been alive, and was sure to make plenty more in death.

For her safety, this was her only escape.

Those men would come for her soon.

They always did.

After all, who could resist the thrall of a Haruno royal?

Yes, she was far too appealing for her own liking, and knew with all of her heart that it would soon lead to her downfall—they would seek her out, take her captive, soil her untainted body, torture her, and finally end her miserable existence; she did not wish to die such a tormenting death.

If there was anything she could have asked for, it would have been that she had not been born into such a cruel and unforgiving world; that way, she would not have to make such a mortifying decision.

She would not have to resort to committing seppuku.

But it was her only option now; she could hear the distant roars of triumph, the footfalls of hooves, the clanking of armour.

It was now or never.

Tears lined her long lashes as she glanced one last time at the moon, the very same moon that she and her love had stared at every fall of the sun that then lapsed into dawn

(_b__lood now stained its once pure cleanliness_)...

More of the cool liquid running down her heated cheeks as she controlled the dreadful tremors in her hands

(_his smile was tinted, smothered, with red, obscured by the scarlet liquid, now she knew he was dead_)...

Raising the small katana high and proud into the air above her head

(_she could hear them coming; the way their yells taunted her, pushed her forward in her quest, unnerved her somehow, but she knew that it had to be done... it __**had**__ to be done_)...

Before she clamped her eyes shut, bringing the blade down to her lower abdomen as she awaited the pain that was sure to accompany such a terrible wound; it never came.

Her glassy emerald eyes snapped up to meet the darkened figure that was now clutching her outstretched arms between the single grip of one large, firm hand, the moon's afterglow completely obscured by dark, rolling clouds—the Heaven's had summoned a storm along with this man's presence.

Even whilst her body shook violently, the Haruno royal took comfort in the way that this man's frame never for a moment faltered, never shook with any fear or trepidation; he was completely calm, collected.

She could hear them far clearer now; they weren't very far away from her home.

They would be here soon.

Perhaps this man was one of them...?

But it honestly didn't matter anymore.

Her heart was broken, in tatters, and what they did with her was of no concern to her now.

She was falling apart on the inside, crumbling like the buildings of ancient days long since passed.

Further tears cascaded in rivers down her cheeks as she turned her anguished expression upon the stranger that had stopped her from breaching herself into the next life, her eyes only widening when she saw the faintest glimmer of crimson flicker through his otherwise unreadable features; his face, along with his eyes, were not visible in the fathomless dark that suffocated the pair.

But when the tiniest sliver of silver contravened through the otherwise densely thick particles of mist, the young woman was left with the most heartbreakingly breathtaking of sights.

This man, he was beautiful, godlike in every aspect.

Dark hair that seemed slightly spiked at the back, long bangs framing his aristocratic facial structure, strong, defined features, but most wrenching of all... _his eyes_.

Bottomless pits of liquid onyx.

Eyes that reminded her of her late beloved.

She could not help herself any longer.

Parting her plush pink lips, the rosette uttered a simple, yet meaningful word.

"S...ai...?"

She must be dead, within the afterlife—the similarities these two shared were too striking, immensely profound, to be ignored.

This seemed to have invoked a reaction out of the man, because when he next spoke, her heart caught in her throat, constricting painfully so.

"We must leave here. They come for you, koi."

More tears streamed down her cheeks as she cupped his face between bloodied hands, her expression twisting into one of utter joy and serenity; he was here, in her arms again.

He was _alive_.

"You are really here... you are not dead... you're still here with me... you're still—!"

"Shhhh, hai, I am here koi. But we must go now, to a place where no one can ever hurt you again."

The pleading look in the woman's eyes was enough; he knew that although he was not this 'Sai' she spoke of, he must have bore _some_ semblance to him in order to have such a broken beauty so joyous to see him, an emotion that had never been felt towards _him_ of all 'people'.

He had to protect her.

There was something about her... there was just something that he felt he needed to preserve.

Perhaps it was the innocence he had once had, but lost all those years ago.

Who knew anymore?

When her lips parted expectantly, he knew that he had to do this, for her sake rather than his own.

Leaning down rather hesitantly, the man gently brushed his lips against hers, electricity sparking down his spine as he pressed his mouth to hers in a soft, chaste kiss.

The wind swept them away, just as the dojo caught on fire.

* * *

_*~*TBC*~*_


	2. Unwanted

Chapter 2

Unwanted

* * *

She felt lost... so, so lost.

There had never been another day that had remained so prominently vivid in her mind that matched the likes of this; the rosette had never been so awe-stricken in her entire life.

She was still alive... and so was her beloved.

And here he was, holding her close to his body, draining his very life's essence, his warmth, into her stricken, gauntly chilled flesh—she was freezing, the bluish hue that tinged her otherwise lovely complexion attesting to that fact.

Her emerald orbs sought out his charcoal depths, in the hopes that maybe what she was seeing was actually real, rather than the horrid nightmare that was surely to have been plaguing her mind; the maiden was almost positive that she had indeed lost whatever shards and remnants of her mind she had had left if this was to be the result of her mirage.

But what a beautiful hallucination it was.

Sai was with her once more... he was still here.

And if her sanity was the price she would inevitably pay in order to forever see him in this light, this existence, then she would happily disburse it without hesitation.

It was the only thing that kept her in her placid state of calmness, after all.

As if sensing her intense gaze on the side of his face, 'Sai' gently tilted his head so that his eyes could fall upon her stilled frame.

She truly was a forbidden beauty, one that he could never properly tame, could never in his right mind simply have for himself.

No, she was not a possession, but a mere mortal, one whose blood was richer and purer than life itself.

Another fruit that he could never taste.

All because of what he was, what he aspired to be... _what he had become_.

Indeed this life had been harsh upon him, but he never forgot his reason for continuing on, even with the spite that was openly, freely, directed at him, the loathing something that he had grown somewhat accustomed to since his birth into this cruel and unforgiving world. He simply stood tall and proud, striding through life as each year slowly crawled by, hoping... just... waiting.

For something, _anything_.

What, he did not know, but perhaps this woman would help with finding the answer to that eagerly sought out question.

Only time could tell.

And from the way this young girl was gazing up at him, with such strong emotions

(_A__ll too foreign to one that could not be loved, would never be loved._)

clouding the depths of her sullen, viridian eyes, the unwanted was sure that she would be by his side for a long time.

(_But she would never see him as he was, for she already had him in the form of her lost love; she would only ever see the semblance of a lost cause, a soul reaped from this earth by the very being that carried her._)

Her plush, somewhat swollen lips

(_lips he so craved to kiss again, tender and soft, yet brutal and harsh all at once_)

parted, as if to speak, with only a puff of air emitting from the orifice in the form of a contented sigh, as if she were pleased to be within his presence.

(_S__he should have known better, he was a danger to her; when would she finally __**see**__?_)

He only wished that it was _him_ that she was feeling so placid around, wished more than anything else that _he_ was the one she was seeing through those misted, emerald rubies.

(_But he knew wholeheartedly that this could never be, after all, he was the 'unwanted', couldn't she see?_)

There would always be a hollow space left where his once beating heart should have been, but it was one that would never palpitate again; he would never know that joyous feeling of blood pumping around his body, never know the rush of adrenaline that caused the heart to pound at an alarming rate.

He would never know that bittersweet agony that was falling in love ever again.

As much as he dearly, sincerely, yearned for that fantasy, he was already fully aware that it could never happen.

Not after what he had caused, what he had done.

(_H__e was a creature of the night, one that thrived off of the screams of terror that his uncurbed bloodlust brought upon._)

Sighing almost ruefully, the dark haired man allowed his eyes to soften ever so slightly at the sight of the pink haired royal stifling a yawn, her expression to epitome of all that was adorable as she scrunched up her nose and furrowed her brow in the attempt to prevent it from becoming audible; she wished to remain awake, at least until they were hidden away safely.

* * *

The pinkette longed for the pair to be together when they allowed sleep to overcome them; she wanted to succumb to that perpetual darkness in his arms.

An unfamiliar feeling settled in the man's stomach, a light fluttering that made his non-existent heart constrict with an unusual tightness; was this what it was like to finally witness a child

(_s__he would always remain this way in his eyes, no matter how much her body said otherwise_) look so peaceful around him?

He had no idea what to make of it; in all of his centuries plaguing this godforsaken planet, he had never felt acceptance as strongly as he was receiving now, and it startled him more than he could have ever comprehended. He had found companionship in the most unlikely of people.

And even though he was aware that she was not accepting _him_, he would do anything in order to take advantage of that acquiescence, that total recognition and comfort she was now conveying to him.

He would do so, no matter what it took.

(_E__ven if it meant breaking her further._)

"Koi, you must rest. They do not pursue us, so you are safe to succumb to it."

The smoothness of his baritone somewhat startled the rosette from her pondering, only to have her realise that she had been staring, even as he made haste through the darkness of the shrubbery surrounding them; flushing a flattering shade of scarlet, the maiden hastily shook her head against it, the very thought worse than any nightmare she had ever endured.

"I refuse! I-I cannot do such a thing, knowing that I could lose you all over again! They seek you out because of me; their desire to obtain me takes precedence over even your very life, and I will not allow it!"

Her voice was thickened with further tears that threatened to spill, her chest astringing painfully so as she stared up at him with large, widened eyes.

She would not risk such a thing if it meant never seeing him, breathing the way he was now, again.

If she need remain mobile and functioning in order to do so, then she would do so without hesitation.

But the lingering fatigue and the promise of ephemeral slumber was _all_ too tempting...

* * *

Releasing an inaudible breath of irritation, the darkened figure gently shifted his left arm so that it rested beneath her rear and cupped the back of her knees tenderly, his right hand rising so that he could pinch her chin between the tips of his thumb and forefinger.

With that, he tilted her face up to meet his

(_h__er long, unruly locks of bubblegum tickled his bared throat, rippling around his neck like the solitary droplets of a running waterfall_),

in time for him to press his mouth to hers once again, in a slightly more dominant kiss than the last they had shared only hours ago.

That same spark of electricity—although far more intense than the previous jolt—shot down his spine, tingling and crawling beneath his flesh until tiny lumps surfaced on his skin, prickling in a pleasantly sordid manner.

This was wrong, he knew that to be the case, but he couldn't resist her tempting any longer; she was far too irresistible, insatiable without even trying, for him to fully grasp.

The rosette felt her eyes widen beyond their normal capabilities, before faltering in their quest and instead resigned to drooping to an untimely close.

There was more moisture forming between their connected mouths this time, saliva mixing to the lightest of degrees as the first signs of proper contact were initiated and made known.

The pink haired maiden felt her lips being pried apart ever so slightly, a damp, solid substance brushing past her top lip in the attempt to invade her personal space; she hadn't ever had the opportunity so early into her marriage to have been kissed in such a provocative manner before, but since this was Sai, she did not reserve herself of any hindrances whatsoever, instead opening for him as soon as he became insistent.

Taking her resignation into mind, the unwanted carefully slipped his tongue into the moist heat that was her mouth, seductively tracing the outline of her own muscle, enticing her to follow his instruction; she did so, nervousness all too clear as she timidly responded, the sparks igniting into an inferno as clutched the front of his yukata gently, her small hands fisted in the fine silk as she raised her head to somewhat deepen their kiss.

Reluctantly he pulled away, his eyes hooded as he watched her expression morph from bliss to confusion.

She hadn't the faintest of clues as to why he had pulled away; perhaps it happened to be because she had no real experience, and he was displeased with her efforts?

But they had yet to work on that aspect of their relationship, so could he honestly in all truth blame her for it?

As her eyes fluttered open

(_he couldn't help but admire the way her long lashes brushed against the hollows of her eyes; what he wouldn't have given to have traced the contours of her face with his lips, his tongue_),

the only thing she managed to perceive was the onyx depths of his own eyes bleeding scarlet, before she was sucked away into transient bliss.

The blackness smothered her light whole, just as the unwanted showed his true form.

* * *

_*~*TBC*~*_


	3. Acceptance

Chapter 3

Acceptance

* * *

There were rumours floating around; about the girl, that is.

The maids secretly gathered to reminisce upon the brief sighting of the beautiful maiden as their employer had arrived back in the twilight of dusk after being gone for two entire days, wondering idly whether she was their master's next 'plaything'.

They did not understand her situation, nor could they comprehend the enormity that their Lord had sacrificed in order to have her brought back safely, when there were so many after her life as it was.

And so, the whispers continued, unchecked, unconfirmed.

"Did you see—?"

"Hai! Uchiha-sama arrived back at the dojo half an hour ago, carrying one whom appeared to be of _royal_ heritage—"

"Ah! She had fair bubblegum locks, ne? Good Kami, she's the sole survivor—!"

"Chotto matte! _She's_ the heir to the prestigious Haruno clan?"

"Ironic, is it not, that _she_ of all the people that _he_ could have taken a mild interest to was the one he chose in the end? After all, their situations are—"

"Two fates crossed together to create one destiny. Ah, what a beautiful prospect! But honestly, I envy her! To be groomed by the last remaining Uchiha, and one as handsome as he! Ugh, and I'm stuck with a stable-boy!"

"Shhhh, Mitsuko, Rema, Ino, Tenten! Karin-_hime_ is approaching!"

Temari, the head maid, reprimanded sarcastically, grumbling profanities under her breath that they had both been interrupted—of their juicy gossip session—and because of the 'woman' that was only now approaching them, an awkward jut to her hips as she vainly attempted to strut her way into Uchiha-sama's home, onto his property, like she owned the place; the only thing she owned was the plague.

And the 'Black Blood' Syndrome.

And perhaps a few other namely diseases.

Coming to an abrupt halt upon noticing the once chattering now silent women, the redhead—in all of her whorish glory—vaguely eyed them behind what they could only assume was the in-style range of optics-wear, but looked like those newer inventions... 'magnifying glasses'... the items that made things of a distinct proportion significantly larger, before she made a sound of disgust and contempt at the back of her throat, a sneer plastered to her pasty features as she all but stomped out of the entryway, the young girls attempting in vain to withhold their laughter at Tenten and Temari's joint imitation of aforementioned 'walk'.

"Oh my Kami-sama, did you _see_ that kimono? It looked like something out of that street brothel in the lower-sanctum of the district!"

Ino tittered childishly as her azure orbs lit up with amusement, the other girls following tout suit in their reactions to the city's most renowned slut _and_ Uchiha-sama obsessed stalker.

It was quite clear that none of the women liked Karin in the slightest, and even more so was she despised by their master; even though he took prostitutes to his bed on a regulated basis, he would _never_ stoop as low as to consort with that hideous creature—he had higher moral standards for himself, and she would never fit in to that class.

_Ever_.

And yet she _still_ persisted in wooing his attentions.

She honestly had no clue when to give up and never return.

But the girls did not want such a foolhardy thing to occur; they wished for further humiliation, embarrassment, to befall the redhead, and the perfect way to instigate such a feat was through using their Lord's newest 'addition'.

* * *

"_Hime_..."

The rosette moaned at the way he said her name, with such conviction and power that it was reassuring; it only proved that he was still alive.

Her love was still alive.

_Sai-kun_.

His tongue traced the contours of her throat, sending electrical shivers up her spine as she shuddered at the sensations he was invoking with such a simple yet effective movement, her hands clutching the material of his black yukata as she reflexively tilted her head further to the side, allowing him more access to the soft, creamy flesh that he had been so eager to devour, to taste.

Gnawing on her bottom lip, the Haruno royal shuffled forward ever so slightly, trying to gain closure in his embrace as she found herself kneeling in front of his knees, able to move no more.

Sensing her disappointment at the sudden loss she had come to register in her lust-fogged mind, the demon smirked somewhat against the hollow of her throat, before reaching out, sliding his hands beneath her curved rear, lifting her as if she weighed nothing more than a feather, a slight breathy gasp leaving her lips as he placed her in her new place upon his lap, the folds of his yukata doing little to hide the swell of appreciation that had formed in his loins.

The discovery of this only led to further timidity from the pinkette, her lightly flushed cheeks deepening in colouration until she looked almost edible as she shyly reached down to cup him, a guttural groan leaving him as he pushed his hips out of habit into her palm, her startled squeak silenced almost as soon as it escaped when he planted his mouth against hers, no hesitance in his movements whatsoever as his tongue slipped past the parted orifice, tangling heatedly with her own muscle as his hands wandered over the planes of her figure.

Before things could progress any further, however, the door to the guest room was slid to a complete open, an angered screech echoing in the quarters as the pair, startled, moved away from one another, almost as if repelled, their eyes instantly seeking out the source of their sudden separation.

Blazing scarlet locks completely dishevelled on one side, thickly-rimmed bifocals, sleazy kimono—the unwanted growled at the sight he was graced with.

The very bane of his existence had literally just waltzed into his private moment alone with the princess.

Well wasn't this just _grand_.

Said woman seemed to be seething at the sight of _her_ precious Uchiha-sama _slobbering_ all over _another_ woman, and one so plain and unappealing too! Karin understood all too well that he had his needs to cater for, and that he had bedded plenty of whores in his lifetime, but to act so openly about his affairs, when he _knew_ that she was to be arriving—she _had_ sent notice of this a day and a half ago, had she not?—today?

Was he intentionally being sadistically cruel to her?

Karin honestly didn't want to find out.

All she wished to know was why there was another of those 'sluts' in his guest sanctum.

"Sasuke-kun! Why is there another of your fucking whores here? You already knew that I was going to be here today—!"

"And I fail to see how any of this involves you, so mind your own fucking business, Karin! And I received no such notice! I've been away on... _business_ for the past two days, so I haven't the faintest clue as to why or what you are doing here! Now leave, before I call my guard!"

'Sasuke' retorted angrily, unconsciously pulling the pink haired maiden closer to his frame in a protective mechanism that was supposed to act as a shield against the spiteful nothings the slut before them; Karin, however, did not miss this gesture, her crimson orbs narrowing into a nasty glare as she stared down the now trembling girl in her 'love's' arms, her sneer never leaving as she screamed back just as harshly, "Hai, business that involved collecting another whore for your collection!"

_'SLAP!'_

It resounded heavily in the tense silence, stunning them all into prolonging it; Karin stood there, clutching her now swollen cheek, ablaze with harsh crimson as tears welled in her eyes, before sliding down her cheeks, her features otherwise ashen and mortified at his sudden act of violence against her.

Never had he so casually backhanded her, no matter what she had said or done.

Sasuke seemed indifferent to his movement, his impossibly dark eyes steely as he challenged her to dare say another word; she didn't.

Without another glance in their direction, Karin swept to the doorway once again, stopping only to let a few cutting words leave her lips.

"He'll never love you, you know. A demon can never love another but themselves. You'll understand one day. And when you do, I'll be here to pick up the pieces once again."

And with that, she swept down the hallway, her scent the only thing that lingered in the air; the scent of cheap perfume and sweat.

The tension that had been left behind, however, was something that even Sasuke himself couldn't bring himself to end.

Nor could he explain to her what Karin had meant by her bruising words.

"Y-You could call her so casually by her name, yet only endearments are what I receive... w-why is that...? Why is it that you r-refuse to call me by my name? Why is it that that woman was so familiar with you? D-Did you betray me while you were away, Sai-kun?"

The impact of her wrath only registered with Sasuke when the syllables 'Sai-kun' exited her plush lips, the anger and sorrow depicted their heartbreaking. Instinctively his hand snapped out to cup her cheek, his body far closer than it had been only seconds before as he hushed her sobs, his lips instantly acting out of their own volition, pressing soft kisses to her forehead and eyelids as he quelled her tears and therefore stopped them.

"Shhhh, she is nothing to me, koi, just a nuisance that has yet to understand that my heart is already the property of another."

The rosette felt herself nodding in slight acceptance to his claim, her emerald orbs glistening still with unshed tears as she entwined her hands with his, Sasuke raising their interlaced fingers to his lips as he kissed each of her knuckles, a light flush decorating her creamy cheeks as he gazed into her eyes with fathomless pools of liquid onyx, an emotion unrecognisable to her as she gazed into them intently; so, so like her Sai-kun's...

"A-And my name...?"

Smirking at her meekness, the cursed Uchiha leaned in closer to her frame

(_the fact that he had to kneel over her on his knees to place him on top of her amused him greatly; she was so small, so delicate, a flower that set ablaze the fluttering of his non-existent heart, that involuntarily forced warmth into his usually apathetically cold eye—a flower all his own, __**his**__ flower_),

his lips hovering slightly above hers

(_they were so pink, __**plump**__, full of life; whereas he was the polar opposite of such warm, radiant beauty, the darkness that he shrouded himself in dousing all such thought of ever appealing to her_)

as his warm breath hit her face (_it surprised him that he had anything warm yet to give_), her lips parting in expectance as he spoke.

"Mochiron... _Sakura-hime_."

With that said, their lips met once more, no insatiable lust detectable in the sweet hum of their intimacy.

* * *

Sasuke scrutinized her every feature as she tossed and turned in her slumber, seemingly perturbed, plagued, with nightmares of the past

(_as was he; with every drawn out breath he drew into himself, the pain, the memories, were automatically triggered—he only hoped that one day they would cease, be erased from his mind_); of her past.

Things that most children should never have to witness, endure.

That was what made them kindred spirits; both of their situations were similar, except his exceeded hers by leaps and bounds.

And he never wanted to see another relive his torture.

Just as he went to stroke her cheek, there was a punctual rap at the screen door, followed by the sharp voice of his head maid.

"Uchiha-sama? Your... _company_ for the evening has arrived."

Sighing inaudibly, Sasuke stood to leave, before rethinking his movement, instantly making his way to where Sakura lay now peaceful and tranquil in her sleep.

Eyes softening ever so slightly, the demon leaned in, pressing a chaste kiss to her slightly parted lips before he slipped out of her room, to where his charge for the long night awaited his arrival.

The perpetual amity that surrounded the rosette shielded her from reality, just as the moans of ecstasy began to echo throughout the endless chill of the night.

* * *

_*~*TBC*~*_


	4. Routine

Chapter 4

Routine

* * *

It had become somewhat of a habit, a ritual, for Sasuke; every day he would lie with the pink haired princess, pressed to her side as she clutched at his evening wear, too timid to ever be emboldened enough to hold him properly, before he would kiss her softly, sometimes even a little further than that

(_A__s much as he longed to go beyond that meagre point of intimacy, he would not press her; even as her lips called to him, her body persuading him as if by witchcraft..._)

if lucky enough, leaving her only after she had drifted into slumber, where then he would head back to his own quarters and fuck a prostitute to help him in alleviating not only his growing frustrations, but his desire to just rip apart her saintly body piece by painful piece until she was beyond repair—it was his 'routine', or what one would assume as such.

And it was necessary in order to keep the urges at bay; the fact that he was not like her in her mortality only made the longing by far more pronounced, dare he say, worse than that of any mortal man's turmoil—he was barely handling the situation as it was.

Grinding his teeth together silently, jaw tautly clenched in his rage, the unwanted stood from his position on the grass of his outer gardens, his onyx orbs piercing as he stiffly made his way back into the palace-sized dojo, his feet carrying no noise as he silently made his way to the pinkette's room

(_With every step he took, he could feel the gradual rise of something far too intimate to disclose beneath the heavy material of his robes, the pain almost mind-numbing as he heard the soft patter of water through the thin screen of the sliding door_);

if he thought he could grow any more rigid, then he was sorely mistaken, when he saw the outline of the petite woman he was visiting stepping into her bathing tub, clothes completely discarded to the floor.

Releasing the breath he had been unaware he had been holding, Sasuke composed himself mutely, before reaching for the panel that separated him from her; sliding it open silently, the unwanted slipped through the crack, the door already long since resealed as he made his way to her toiletries room, his hand itching to tear the door open so that he could see her in all her glory.

He withheld that urge with great reluctance and willpower, before he gently tapped against one of the wooden panes that supported the door—making sure not to punch a hole through either the wood or the paper mesh that obscured everything but her shadow from sight—with the knuckle of his centre finger, hoping that she would give him allowance to continue.

"Who is it?"

Her sweet voice lilted in the otherwise tense silence, the pattering of more water

(_He could already envision it running off of her body, the length of her hair, the smooth perfection of her skin glistening with the sheen of liquid coating it [it was difficult ignoring the dirtier side of him that envisioned __**sweat**__ rather than water], the water altering the temperature of her body and therefore puckering her presumably pink nipples—_)

falling back into the tub snapping him from his deluded fantasies in time for him to utter out a blunt response in return.

"It is me, koi."

The surprised splash that followed led Sasuke to assume that she had flailed in surprise, ultimately slipping and immerging herself underwater; nothing could withhold his smirk at the thought.

* * *

Sakura was startled beyond belief, of any coherent thought or sentence; Sai-kun had come to her, whilst she was _bathing_?

D-Did that mean that she would have to... _in the bath_...?

That thought was far more mortifying than she had first assumed, so Sakura pensively shifted her preferences, those being correcting herself so that she was once again upright as she hyperventilated, gasping for air, from both her exploit underwater, and from his sudden arrival; what did he want of her whilst she was—?

Her question was answered as she remembered what she had forcefully shoved aside.

Kami help her now.

Sai's voice resounded off of the inner walls of her private sanctum, soft and concerned as he asked rather valiantly, "Sakura, are you alright? Are you hurt?"

As cliché as it may have seemed, the rosette couldn't help the scarlet flush that tickled her cheeks a pleasant shade of red, her prior worries about what he was after long since forgotten as she thought over his kind words, words that he would relay to her, every other day before their engagement had even begun.

"Sakura?"

"I-I am fine, Sai-kun! J-Just a little flustered is all."

Sasuke had to bite back his angered remark at her title for him, bearing in mind the mentality of the poor young girl in the opposite room, before he reinstated his cool demeanour, his breaths even and measured as he spoke once more, hesitance vaguely detectable if sought out in his tone.

"Sakura, may I come in, or would it be too soon?"

The dreaded words had been uttered, from the lips of the man she loved and idolised the most.

What was she to do?

She had no experience whatsoever in _that_ aspect of a relationship

(_As far as they had gone for her; Sakura held the vaguest of memories that suggested that she had been restricted from anything that related to male interaction of any sort, even within the select few members of her family_),

and worried that he would be displeased with her efforts; although she had been intentionally kept pure for the sole purposes of marriage and furthering kinship between neighbouring countries, it still made her anxious, as well as jittery and uncomfortable.

Rumours stated that it was a painful experience when engaged in for the first time, and Sakura ideally wished that she would never have to endure such a thing; but apparently the pain was a small price to pay for the extreme, euphoric pleasure it brought afterward, so again, it rendered the rosette incapable of decisiveness.

"I assume your silence is in declination to my request; that is fine. I shall see you soon then."

Sasuke stated somewhat frostily, unused to being ignored, and refused of his desires; as he turned to leave, there was the tiniest of squeaks, before a hasty "Matte kudasai! (_Please wait!_)" was all but cried out.

(_H__e wondered vaguely if she would sound as she does when she was trembling beneath him—_)

"P-Please... come in..."

Sasuke's eyes widened a fraction, before he registered her claim; she had just given him access to her private abode.

He couldn't resist her invitation to join her somewhat, now could he?

Wiping all emotion from his face—although he was smug to the utmost of degrees on the inside—Sasuke stepped quietly into the closed in space, his eyes adjusting to the dim lighting before his dark eyes landed on the maiden in the bathtub; long pink locks soaked and dripping with residual water, droplets clinging to her long lashes and lips, the urge to kiss her growing quite predominant as he sauntered forward, as casually as he could without frightening her—and so that he could prove to himself that he could remain in control of that darker side of him, the _dominant_ side, that continually found ways to _manipulate_ him, _mess with his head_—his eyes slightly reassuring as he watched her tremor with slight fear.

So she _finally_ understood her place, how dangerous he _truly_ was, what a threat he was to her wellbeing; but it was for all the _wrong_ reasons.

Then again, he wouldn't put it past himself to harm her in a sexual means either... it all depended upon how much self control he could muster and maintain when with her.

Which, in all honesty, he could never be sure of; after all, he was insatiable when it came to his sexual appetite.

(_Living all these years proved to be somewhat of a dismal prospect, so turning to intercourse was the next best thing for one that had no other pleasure or joy in life except to watch others suffer and gradually break from their pain._)

Kneeling next to her—and making sure to look nowhere but her eyes—with excruciating slowness, Sasuke leaned forward if only a little, so that her face was barely an inch from his, a smirk tugging at his lips as he murmured a breathy greeting to the now severely flushed pinkette.

"Ogenki desu ka? (_Are you well?_)"

Sakura simply nodded feverishly in response, too afraid to open her mouth, only to scream at him to leave; it was oh so difficult having the man you loved in the very same room as you, especially whilst disrobed.

Reaching out to cup her cheek with his hand

(_It felt amazingly smooth, much smoother than before, when it was wet; he imagined what she would feel like when __**other**__ places of her anatomy were drenched—_),

Sasuke traced the contours of her cheek idly as she blushed with embarrassment evident in her emerald orbs, her shy glances

(_through hooded eyes so seductive it made him want to tear away at her innocence and plunge into her damp heat again and again until she was screaming for more—_)

only widening his half-hearted smile as he leaned forward, lips brushing against the tip of her nose, trailing the flesh over her right cheek, pausing at the corner of her mouth, before finally pressing them chastely to her mouth, his eyes heavy with the movement as he watched the girl instinctively react, hers drooping to a complete close as her hands moved to lightly grip his hair, giving him the perfect viewing of her ample bust; achingly full breasts met his mind's eye as he gazed at them longingly, wishing nothing more than to cup them

(_They were sure to have been heavy in the palm of his hand; it was almost inconceivable to think that this innocent young girl had the body of a fully matured woman, which was why she was in so much danger when in his active presence, especially now, that she was exposed to him_)

in his hands, fondle and grope them until she was nothing but a limp ragdoll in his capable arms—how he longed to latch his mouth onto one of those perky pink nipples

(_He had been right, as he had first assumed, which only led to the question of what colour her womanhood was..._)

and suckle on it until she was weeping for further attention.

Groaning inwardly at the thought, Sasuke pressed himself closer to her naked body, eyes never leaving her chest as he raised his spare hand, intent on touching her globes, at least once, before derailing completely; this wasn't right.

After all, Sakura wasn't kissing _him_; she was kissing her departed beloved—she was kissing _Sai_.

And it seemed that that was all there was to it.

Pulling back from her startled form, Sasuke reeled from her completely, his eyes wild and ablaze with accumulated lust as he gazed at her flushed features, her peaks hardening to complete erectness as she stared up at him

(_Such innocent fucking eyes, always alight with life, aglow with love and affection, but affection and lust not for him, but for __**Sai**__; __**never **_him)

through confused, slightly dazed apple green orbs, her attempts at keeping herself covered from his scrutinizing gaze forgotten as she almost lurched over his rejection of her; so he _didn't_ want her anymore...?

Why?

Wasn't she good enough?

Did she not meet his expectations in a woman?

Without another word, or glance, Sasuke fled from the room, his eyes cutting and cold as he stormed from his home, transforming when on the outskirts so that he could travel to where he needed without hindrance; it seemed that a trip to the whorehouse was required in order for him to unsheathe his growing hunger.

He could no longer be with her safely.

He would only do further damage.

Which brought into question

(_Even as he grabbed the first most decent woman he could scavenge, dragging her to a room and tearing away her attire without protest from the slut he was to bed_)

_why_ he had even bothered to bring her back in the first instance; he should have just let her die when he had the chance to.

He didn't need this.

He didn't need the extra strain of pretending—_masquerading_—as another person, _another man_, one that he had gladly cut down for his crimes

(_She could never know, nevernevernvernevernever, about __**that**__, or about the woman he was roughly ramming into, her pleasured screams only proving to be of irritancy to him, __**because they were not **_hers)

against the samurai code, and everything they stood for; he did not wish to be a stand-in for another, a means of venting deluded fantasies on.

(_Ironic that he was always pretending, deluding himself into believing that he didn't care, for her or anything else, when he knew that they were all lieslieslieslieslieslies, and that he __**did**__ care, __**far**__ more than he should._)

If that was the way it was to be, then he would have to change her perspective on things, no matter what it took

(_**Even if it breaks her**_).

* * *

The wind carried the rosette's wails to the farthest ends of the earth, only to have no one there to hear them.

* * *

_*~*TBC*~*_


	5. Unbound

Chapter 5

Unbound

* * *

It had been a week since Sakura had last seen her assumed love (_she would fool herself for the rest of her life if it meant keeping Sai with her_), and she was beginning to worry; it was just like the day he had left to fight the Tokugawa Shogunate, and it caused a wretched knot of fear to coil in her stomach—she could not lose him, not for a second time.

Just when she thought she could finally be at ease, he always somehow made her unusually anxious, putting her stress as first on the scale of priorities she already had; one of these days, she would most probably continue what she started all those months ago—_that_ is how much she worried for his safety.

Letting a forlorn sigh fall from her plush lips, the rosette turned her burdened gaze to the scenery outside of her screen door in her chambers, green eyes dull as they focused on empty space; no matter how beautiful the garden may have been (even at an hour as late as this), she simply could not concentrate on the luscious flora that surrounded her.

There was just so much to be concerned about…

Raising a petite hand to her long locks, Sakura ruffled the mane of pink, the once smooth waves fuzzed with the friction of her touch as she slipped the silk ribbon from her hair, allowing it to fall loosely around her shoulders and to the middle of her back; it felt simply _divine_ to have the once bound hair unrestricted by a band of sorts, although if shown such a display in public, one would assume that they were the district's prostitute.

Thankfully her integrity remained intact, although there were some repercussions to that state of purity; on many an occasion when she was in the marketplace, she would be approached by men of all distinctions asking for crude and rather vulgar 'favours' (_In all honesty she would sooner die than sell herself to anyone but her beloved, yet he was never there to take what was rightfully his_), all of which would have turned even a sailor bright pink.

Of course, it was easier to ignore their lewd mannerisms in favour of seeking out those familiar dark orbs, and strong, defined back amongst the crowd of onlookers; she never once managed a glance of him, even when informed that he was sighted somewhere within that district (_With such cold, cruel words of spite and fear—of what, she did not know, but nor did she care; not when he was her love; all ceased mattering when he was concerned_).

Another sigh slipped through her parted lips as she gazed out into nothingness; her distractedness would be the catalyst for something terrible one of these days.

Perhaps she would try again to find him, like she had every other day from the time the sun rose above the ocean to when it kissed the horizon as it slept?

Eyes burdened with sadness (admittedly caused by her beloved's sudden and unexpected disappearance), Sakura shifted from her place on the tatami mat, straightening out the creases of her light white and pink silk patterned kimono—and retying her obi sash—before gracefully making her way to the sliding door on the opposite side of the room; once there, she carefully bowed over, reaching for her geta, tucked neatly against the crisp wood of the single step descending to floor level (the point of it Sakura failed to see), before coveting them in the folds of her kimono's weighted sleeve—putting them on in the dead of night only roused suspicion, and the likelihood of being caught, and this she could not afford.

Being careful not to make a single sound, the rosette slipped lithely into the hallway, the smooth planks at her feet chilling her to the very bone; it was the time of year when autumn collapsed into winter, and Sakura found herself yearning the warmth of those strong, familiar arms, the security they presented when she sought comfort.

Oh how she ached for him; his touches, his kisses, soft and sweet in the heat of the night, _him_.

With that steeling her resolve, the young woman agilely located herself to the front door, making sure to leave no one aware of her 'disappearance' (Sai had become awfully overprotective of her—much to her utter horror and delight—of late, thus entailing a round of "guards" stationed within every inch of the dojo palace to ensure her safety at all times) as she blended in with the shadows until no trace of her remained.

* * *

**…**

**…**

**…**

* * *

"A festival…? At this time of year?"

Sakura pondered idly, green irises wide as she perused her surroundings; stalls of all sizes and description fluttered into view, the soft trickling of the stream underneath the bridge she stood upon almost inaudible over the loud calls each of the stall owners made, as if trying to overpower everyone else to receive the most attention.

She simply chose to block out their beckoning as she shuffled nervously through the crowded shopping zone, desperate to find her beloved and leave the claustrophobic clutches she had unintentionally stumbled into the middle of.

It was not until men began to take note of her presence, her lack of _company_, per se, that she began to panic.

The way their eyes stuck to her curvy figure (being of foreign birth assured her these traits), the lust evident in both their faces, and… _posture_… it all made her feel ill, on the verge of stumbling over her own two feet—she would not allow that to happen though.

Because she knew that if she gave in to her instinct to run and hide, they would simply make chase after her, and force her into sinful actions that she would only commit with her lover; no other would lay a finger on her, as it was her will not to be with anyone other than Sai.

So she held her head high, an indignant expression shielding the one of terror from view as she continued onward, her search never ceasing, even whilst she kept her eyes on the ill-intent men following her (either with their eyes, or in the very literal context); she prayed that she would stumble upon him soon, because as the night grew to its very peak, so too did their lust for blood… and her body.

_'Sai-sama… onegaishimasu… show yourself to me…'_

* * *

**_._.****.**

**What is it you have to hide from me, my love?**

_._.**.**

_**EVERYTHING.**_

_****__._.**.**

* * *

**…**

**…**

**…**

* * *

The sixth woman he had bedded that day sat contentedly naked at the end of the bed, legs folded to her left as she gazed alluringly back over her shoulder at him; a deep frown marred his handsome face, soon shifting to a menacing scowl as he finally recognised the intricate design imprinted into the common whore's skin.

He couldn't _believe_ he had missed it when he had almost fucking _torn_ her flimsy kimono from her—admittedly—intoxicating body (that he had enjoyed drowning himself in as he forgot everything and anything related to the pink haired virgin living in his home, only rooms away from his own); the art itself was exquisite, a craft in itself much akin to swordsmanship, but what the image depicted was less than pleasing.

The purple haired woman froze when she met his gaze, her body wracked with tremors as he slowly lifted himself into a half seated position, using his elbows to support his upper back whilst he gestured stiffly with his head at her bare back, clearly desiring answers.

"That tattoo you have on your back. Who gave it to you?"

Obviously that was a touchy subject, as she stiffened almost immediately, fear the only thing evident in her honey brown eyes as she stuttered rather disdainfully in an attempt to sway his attentions elsewhere. He would have none of it.

With that same speed that stunned people into lapsing silence, Sasuke appeared before her, his large, calloused hand seizing the frail woman by her arm and forcing her around to look him straight in the eye; it was as if she had turned to stone in his arms—she was utterly _terrified_.

Normally he would have taken some sadistically abnormal pleasure in it, but not now, not in this instant; he wanted answers, and he wanted them _now_.

"_Who was it_?"

The raven haired "demon" spat, anger rolling off of him in the form of aggressive muscle twitches and spasms as he observed her expression once more; pursed lips, quivering only slightly, a stare of solid defiance only raising Sasuke's temper a good couple of notches until he was at boiling point—Lord, he'd kill her as soon as he got what he wanted from her if she didn't start talking now.

Evidently the whore could read minds, or was particularly good at second-guessing stoic enigmas, as her mouth opened to speak.

Her voice shook softly as she all but whimpered out _his_ name, like it physically pained her to do so—and perhaps it did, to some extent.

"O-Orochimaru."

* * *

**…**

**…**

**…**

* * *

It was unmistakeable.

It was definitely him.

He was still alive, it seemed.

That tattoo was proof of it.

A katana raised to the shoulder, with a serpent wrapped placidly around the very blade.

Yes, it looked as if Sasuke's plight with him had yet to end, it seemed.

Growling in heated frustration, he remembered vaguely the exact reason why the woman had had that particular design on her back, when only _specific_ people were given the 'privilege' to have it adorn them.

**xXxXx**

"_I-I was his pupil, adopted after the Kyoto Regime's men slaughtered my parents and other relatives in suspicion that we worshipped a 'false god'; Jesus Christ in other words. Of course that was not the case, and they meaninglessly died amongst the chaos. O-Orochimaru… he took me in when no one else would, gave me food, clothes, a home to return to. At first I admired him, looked up to him with the respect he thought he deserved, but then, not long after… he… forced me… raped me countless times before selling me off to prostitution… but not before marking me __**completely**__ as his; the sick bastard thought that by giving me his honorary 'symbol', that I would be eternally grateful, and at first I was. _

_"I clung to the childish hope that he loved me, and that when he hurt me 'down there', he did not intend to; that by marking me as his in both body, and by __**this**__," At that, she gestured at the tattoo flanking her nude back, "He would always be there to protect me, like he used to. That hope shattered when I heard that he had 'died' by the hands of renegade samurai; but I knew that wasn't the case. No man as influentially powerful as him would drop dead at the hands of any common swordsman." _

_At this, Sasuke couldn't help but reluctantly agree. _

_"I knew he had abandoned me, 'left town' so to speak, because he had no more use for my talents as his 'little assassin'. Now I am left here, getting fucked like a desperate slag, when all I desire is my freedom from him, from his markings upon me." _

_Her eyes carried a bottomless well of misery as she looked back at him then, the smile touching her lips ever so slightly never for a moment seemingly genuine as she spoke her next words in an almost pained whisper. _

_"But I will never be free from his control; after all, this mark is one that will never fade away." _

_She not only reached back to trace the lines of the inked snake on her back, but placed her hand over her heart as she began to weep._

**xXxXx**

It was obvious what needed to be done, even as Sasuke slipped on his black haori and matching hakama, the outfit made entirely of the finest silks that Japan had to offer—it looked like he would have to unsheathe hell on earth once more.

As the raven haired demon jumped from the window, all he could think was, _'Sick fuck's going down this time around.'_

* * *

**…**

**…**

**…**

* * *

Sakura was running.

Fuck the 'I'm confident, I can protect myself' guise; she knew it had failed the moment she had run into a group of eager young men—if they could even be _called_ that.

Some were overweight; others were obtrusively ugly, offensive to her eyes as she darted from their unwanted advances.

Fleeing was all she could do as she looked around frantically for a means of escape, as she had already fallen into their intricately woven trap; lure the innocent virgin away from all other's sight, and take her when she had no one in her defence, no one to protect her.

With wild, frantic eyes, the rosette spun into a dead end, her hands viciously clawing at the brick walls in the hope that perhaps it would crumble enough for her to get away; her attempts were futile, as the sickening, maddening sound of footsteps echoed in the blackened alleyway behind her.

She had been discovered.

The silver slivers of moonlight that poured in through the veil of misty clouds only caused the alarm in Sakura's chest to heighten, as he figure was fully exposed to their viewing; although her attire remained intact, it felt as if she were standing nude before them, the way they leered and undressed her with their eyes.

Her mouth parted to scream for help, of any sort, as they advanced; only to stop less than a foot away.

Their eyes had bulged uncharacteristically as they stumbled away, hands fumbling at their belts and sashes for a weapon to defend themselves from whatever it was that was frightening them so.

Before Sakura could even process it, a figure stepped out of the inky black shadows behind her, lips tickling her earlobe momentarily before she felt a sharp jab at the base of her neck.

Their words washed over her as she slipped away with the darkness that had suddenly possessed her.

_"You do not want to be conscious for this."  
_

_'Sai…sama…?'_

* * *

**…**

**…**

**…**

* * *

An evil smile lifted on Sasuke's lips as he gently placed Sakura down on the ground at his feet, eyes flickering red as he held the men's gazes across from him, at the very opening of the alley; he had shifted forms the moment he caught her scent on the wind, the distress and panic causing him to freeze all over as he backtracked to her current location—what she was doing in the slums of Oto he had no idea, but was intent to find out when he had finished the dirty pigs across from him off.

They were paralysed with fear as they took in his features; there was no way…!

He never left his residence, taking to hiding away and only leaving for base needs.

Yet here he was, standing tall and ready before them, a sickening smirk adorning his greyed complexion as he moved into the moonlight.

"_Now… Which of you wants to die first?_"

And with that, the bloodbath began.

* * *

**…**

**…**

**…**

* * *

Sakura awoke, a sharp stinging preventing her from moving her head; with eyes still closed, the rosette tried to pinpoint her whereabouts.

Finding that that method was not aiding her, her eyes fluttered open, only to see a broad black sky above, painted with glittering stars that resembled sequins on a Western wedding dress.

Beneath her was soft grass—from the texture of it—, tickling her bared wrists and hands as she finally noticed the warmth enveloping her; tilting her head back until it was craned ever so slightly (the pain blossoming once more as she did so), Sakura almost did a double-take.

Impossibly dark onyx eyes, framed with endlessly long eyelashes and bangs to match, pale complexion and typical egotistical smirk…

"Sai…sama…?"

The smirk faltered slightly, resembling that of a soft scowl as he gazed at her lovely features from the new position he had her in; he had chosen to support her neck whilst she regained her former state of consciousness on his lap, and that mightn't have been the best of ideas.

With her coming to, her head lolled from side to side, not too far away from his package, and the animal inside him was rekindled like nothing he had ever endured or experienced before; now, with her head titled back, the thick pink locks, and the very bottom of her skull were pressed against him, his once flaccid member slowly rising once again.

Why was she such a glorious temptation, one that he couldn't fucking take for himself?

Almost biting out his irritation, Sasuke none too gently shoved her off of him, to save them both from the impending embarrassment that was inevitable if she had noticed his growing erection from the base of her skull.

Moaning softly in pain, the rosette settled a frosty glare in his direction, only to stop when she saw his intense gaze directed elsewhere, flushed cheeks, and—

_'Oh my…!'_

Sakura felt her eyes bulge when she noticed the evident tent in her lover's hakama, her green eyes shyly averting his when they returned to observe her reaction.

Cheeks flushed scarlet, eyes downcast, hands fidgeting restlessly—she truly was a virgin, in both body and soul.

Sasuke couldn't help but chuckle, his discomfort lost now that the mood had shifted, and the roles reversed.

It was her turn to be embarrassed, for both her own integrity and his obvious disposition. At the soft sound of his resonant snort, Sakura snapped her gaze in his direction, only to note that he was now leaning above her, the previous bulge pressed eagerly against her right

thigh as he reached over to brush the stray strands of hair from her face; she was definitely like a china doll, so easy to break another with her painful beauty, but so easily broken herself.

"I nearly lost you today… Foolish girl."

Sakura simply sniffled, tears easily brimming at the corners of her eyes, before they were tactfully wiped away by the calloused thumbs of her lover; he would not be the cause of her tears, not ever.

Perhaps her deceased husband could do such things to her, but he most certainly would not; she was too fragile, and didn't need to be broken a second time.

"G-Gomen-_hic_-esai-i…!"

He simply smiled at her childish cuteness (she was entitled, as a frightened sixteen year old), before swooping down, his cool lips caressing hers until they became pliant beneath his.

The wind hummed softly in the backdrop, whilst the two lovers became entangled in one another, and came unbound.

* * *

*~*TBC*~*

* * *

**a/n: I have pictures up for some of the more recent—and future happenings—events, inclusive to clothing, accessories, body art and scenery on my profile, if it warrants any interest. Please review. (:**

**~Sasuke-sama**


	6. Sleep

**a/n: Thought I would ease your grief with my inability to update with a teaser of lemon content. Enjoy. ;)**

* * *

Chapter 6

Sleep

* * *

The whispered murmurings, speaking of anything but sweet nothings in the presence of the Unwanted, were all but dull reverberations of sound in Sakura's ears, tickling her eardrums, but never fully permeating her senses as she shuffled at an awkward three paces behind her beloved, the taut pull of her kimono around her ankles and the lavish wooden geta making walking at a reasonable speed near impossible.

Even with such impediments, what made the pinkette's trek implausibly strenuous (and dare she say a little overbearing), more so than the aforementioned, was the resounding burn that still remained dormant between her thighs; the sting so prominent in her gait that with every shuffled step forward, a sharp spasm of discomfort was rewarded.

To say that she was aching would be an irredeemable understatement, but she would manage with the soreness that their act of joining had brought upon her body (_for her __**alone**__ to __**suffer**__, for physical pain was now __**beyond**__ the comprehension of her lover, the one who unsuspectingly __**broke her**__, and __**took from her**__ what was _**not his**_, what was __**never**__ to be his_) in light of the fact that she was now his; wholly and without equal.

Her flushed cheeks darkened once more, but she refused to allow her mind to wander back to their midnight tryst under the dark blanket of the universe, lest the impurities of her thoughts rot her very soul and send her into blasphemous damnation.

She instead focused on the broad line of her love's shoulders, not too wide to be deemed bulky, but enough so to give the impression of raw, untamed power—the power to crush armies, to intimidate and strike fear into the hearts of even the strongest warrior.

A smile tilted her plush, indefinitely bruised pink lips at that; he was, in her eyes, the fiercest samurai the world over, and nothing could ever dissuade the notion from her mind.

The formidable powerhouse of Japan, and he was all hers.

He had proven as much not even an hour passed.

Sakura's apple green eyes widened at the sudden turn in her ponderings, derailing from all of her self-control as she all but barrelled into Sai's credulously prone form, her hands clutching clumsily at the silky material of his yukata in order to remain upright as she regained her lost equilibrium.

Noticing that her bearings were not all there—and with good reason, the ebony haired _man_ noted with a subtle smirk—Sasuke turned on an angle, ignoring the contemptuous sneers of the townsfolk around him as he brought a hand to rest against her cheek, the once delicate flush brightening to a flattering shade of his favourite foreign delicacy as she brought startled eyes to meet his fiery gaze.

Thumbing the smooth, unmarred flesh (_so very youthful, so young, so deliciously ripe and fresh, even with her no longer retaining her virginal status_), Sasuke traced the contours of her face with hooded, sooty eyes, blacker than the darkest gemstones and so completely impossible to navigate in just one meagre moment in time.

Sakura wondered idly how many times she would need to interlock her eyes (_full of light, promises, dreams and hopes_) with his (_full of darkness, an emptiness that she could never begin to comprehend, of all that was left unfulfilled, of what he no longer had; sadness, hatred, and unmitigated, unalloyed sorrow_) in order to decipher all of their secrets, but that thought was very quickly vanquished when she noticed his once intent expression settle into one of unadulterated haughtiness, the line of his sight now drifting from the exposed curvature of her neckline to—

An unabashed blush seared to life upon her porcelain cheeks as she realised with abject mortification that his smoky gaze was now at rest upon her chest, which was peppered with what remained of his lips affections; dark contusions of varying hues of red, pink and purple lined her flesh, all still tingling from the lingering touch of his lips upon her every curve.

The nerve of this man, to stare in such a lewd manner, in such an open setting!

Yes, it may have been well within his own right to do so, with her position as his wife and lifelong partner, but to make such an exposed claim, a statement so bold that it set alight the rosette's every nerve and sent her into a frenzy of want and need, in _this_ place?

Sakura felt as if she could never again show her face to these people, whose eyes were now scrutinising their every movement as if they were about to have them shot by the police force.

She trembled at the unpleasant nature of her musings, extinguishing the thoughts before anything became of them.

Taking note of her discomfort, and not wishing to add to her anxiety and potential ire, Sasuke let a small smile grace his lips, silencing all of her indignant protestations to his inappropriate staring and instead replacing them with that of quivering masses of unintelligible words, that spoken, would lead to the slaughter of the Japanese language as they all knew it to be, and thus the pinkette was rendered speechless, unable to conjure the apposite response to his kindly diversion as he reached around himself, only to moments later cradle her hand in his, a delicate kiss to her wrist only furthering her bafflement as he led her at a pace more suited for her sensitive disposition, down through the annual festivities toward their home, never once letting her hand fall from his.

* * *

Her bath drawn for her upon her arrival—having been discovered to be missing by the maids and furiously reprimanded for her sudden disappearance amidst tears of relief and tender embraces from her newfound friends—Sakura allowed herself to luxuriate, falling out of her attire and into the bath almost as quickly as her lover had taken her on that dewy midnight prairie, her moan of satisfaction reverberating almost obscenely in the respite of the morning as she sunk further into the scalding water.

With the initial sting of her throbbing sex all but gone, Sakura was enabled the opportunity to relax and recover from her night's eventful happenings, hands lightly caressing over the plains of her skin in what was her vague imitation of Sai's touches, rough from the callouses of his battle weary hands, but oh so very tender across her flesh, fingertips barely ghosting over her petite frame whilst his lips burned searing reminders into her very being that she was no one else's but his, the tip of a curious tongue delving across the dips and contours of her neck and bust until he discovered every inch of sensitised tissue that ached to be teased and taken.

Heavy pants coupled with moans of gratification and fervour, hands grasping for stability whilst a substantial wetness was splayed across endless ivory fingertips, silky black strands tickling the inside of her thighs as that same wicked tongue played a sinuous game of come hither between fine pink curls, an awkward embrace filled with a discomfiting fullness that had her weeping from the intensity of the unexpected pain tearing through her system.

Hushed kisses that remove her tears, tears which soon wet her own lips as he delves, delves deep along with the almost punishing movement of his hips bearing down upon her, filling her to the very brim of discomfort once again, mouth ceaseless in its ravaging, hips ceaseless in their pillaging of her innocence; a hand, she remembers, slipped between the apex of their joint beings, finding a place that Sakura had barely taken note of (a part of her own body that she had been taking for granted, it seemed, for it could have relieved _so much_, had she known it was there for that purpose) and sending her into oblivion with the slightest of rapid strokes, and from there, his mouth swallowed her mewls of bliss, and her hips answered his call for completion.

Her clumsy kisses were met with raspy chuckles, but were returned in full, his every thrust into her being bringing her closer to the very precipice of pleasure, so much so that she pulled him deeper, deeper within herself, deeper into her soul until she could _feel_ _him_ against the taut skin of her tummy, pushing against her womb and another place so deliciously wonderful that the stars were aligning behind her eyelids and her whole body shook with what it knew instinctually was to come next.

Kami, she felt _amazing_.

Tingling turned into tremors of delight, whimpers turned into keening cries for something more, an unbearable heat, gasping breaths, grappling hands intertwining, legs raising higher and higher, hips undulating slowly, grinding ever deeper until the expansive ball of heat exploded within her, and she fell, his name the mantra that she screamed to the gods above; fell with him over the edge, a fulfilling warmth filling her to the very hilt as she clutched for her lost strands of sanity.

She found them, in his arms, his head cradled to her naked breasts and her hands splayed across his dampened hair, his back and his shoulders and his neck—everywhere and anywhere she could touch and hold him ever closer to her warmth.

She never wanted to let him go.

A soft kiss to the swell of her right breast, lazy in its placement as the perpetrator was too dazed to lift his weight from that of the boundless heat beneath him to give her a proper one, and a soft, contented sigh—as if he too had been waiting for this moment for too long.

And after several moments of rest, he rose, endless orbs of purest onyx drilling into her emerald pearls, whilst an obscure look overtook his features, as if he was bemused by their sudden act of unification, an indecipherable emotion flickering briefly through those same beautiful eyes, before disappearing all too soon, a smile taking its place in her mind as he leant forward, lips parting hers in yet another searing kiss—

* * *

Sakura burst through the clear veil of water, dispersing the memory with the ripple of the tide as she stood a little too hastily, resulting in her slipping back into the liquid substance, now lukewarm from her mindless pondering, the pinkette spluttering in an attempt to relieve the water from its invasion into her lungs; while seemingly fruitless, it seemed to calm the raging blush that had forced its way inadvertently to her soft cheeks with her crude line of thought, so she continued until she had no genuine need to cough any longer.

Pacified of her distress for the time being, Sakura composed herself, before carefully stepping out from her bathtub, wrapping a white robe about her lithe figure whilst removing herself entirely from the porcelain bowl, a soft bundle of cloth piled around her head as she hastily tried to eliminate the pesky water droplets from her thick pastel pink locks.

A soft, gladdened outbreath slipped through her contented lips, eyes falling to an abrupt close as her fatigue finally registered with her; she had failed to realise just how tired her outing, alongside her unexpected lovemaking, had made her, and her lack of forethought and warning had led to her body's gradual trip into blissful nirvana.

Shaking her head, as if to clear it of the sudden fog that had lulled her mind and settled over her thoughts, Sakura discarded the towel from her cerise mane for the maids to come and collect, slipping out from the robe shrouding her lissom frame from the outside world to leave her unabashedly nude.

Striding over to her dressing table, the pinkette reached for her nightgown, pausing for a moment to admire the craftsmanship; soft velvet under-layer with a delicate ecru, sinuous cotton sleeves (and dress over-layer of the same material) that flow down to the elbows, and a pale pink cherry blossom and spiral motif, which crinkles up at the sleeves and the hem of the gown, folding around the waistline with a deep v-cut neckline, peppered with gossamer lace and further intricate blossoms.

Lace trimmings trace the edges of the cut cloth, creasing over to the classy button-up back, with a crumpled lace finish.

Sakura utterly adored the European negligée, upon which Sai had requested be shipped to Japan via an overseas courier after noting her admiring of a similar peignoir in a local shop window; although its design and handiwork hardly compared to the masterpiece of this gown, which had only arrived in the early hours of the morning, and how Sakura had longed to try it on since then.

Smiling coyly to herself, the rosette imagined how her beloved would react to the sight of her in it, but quickly compressed the notion, her exhaustion leaving her barely functional.

Perhaps in the morning?

Stretching, Sakura slipped into the nightie with few complaints—almost ridiculously proud of herself for not having fallen over her own two feet in her eagerness to have the material pressing against her every curve—before realising that although the dress was designed to be easy to step into, the buttons were out of her reach, and try as she might, it was too difficult to fasten herself.

That in and of itself only assured the fact that it was made to be put on and taken off by another—

A demure blush followed at the thoughts that were summoned by the frightful notion (_for even though she was no longer pure of body, her heart and mind remained unaffected by the taint that had speared into her so unexpectedly_); gods, her mind had been corrupted!

What else could possibly explain the recurring cycle of deliberations passing through her mind on this, the morn of her consummation?

Utterly affronted by the unforeseen shift in her mental capacity, the pinkette jerked from within herself, separating all impulses to simply _think_ from her mind before she did something abrupt, rash, her focus shattering into abysmal chaos.

Amidst her inner turmoil—the battle to remain _a good and pure person_ rapidly declining to a state of anarchy as she fought the wretched and recoiled from anything and everything deemed _inappropriate_ for a young woman to be entertaining in her private musings—Sakura had failed to notice the new presence that had stealthily slipped into her quarters with the ever fickle shadows (_an endless river of inky darkness, that flowed and shrouded, protected and destroyed, lived through all, saw all, and in spite of that, never remained, always __**changing**__, and yet _always_**the same**_), as if already one with the perilous depths, dark eyes glowing despite the obscurity cloaking his person.

They were keen, bright with sharp wit and trained for possible threats, threats that could remove her from his watchful gaze, his waiting embraces, all the while lingering upon her sinewy physique, struggling more so now than she had been only moments before with the irksome chore of buttoning up her eveningwear.

Smirking arrogantly at the deliberate choice of gown—having decided that the only kind of negligée she would adorn would be the kind that she would need _help_ getting into and out of—Sasuke stalked the shadows, allowing them to lead him to her gullible form, his movements next to silent; not even a creak from the wood beneath his bared feet sounded in the frigid cold of the bitter early morning.

* * *

Sakura was becoming increasingly distressed with the impediments that were the little round brooches, and her inability to fasten them; at this rate, she would have to neglect her bruised pride and seek assistance—

Two cold hands brushed hers away, making quick work of the accursed buttons, and by the time she had turned her gaze in mute horror (for she had not expected another to have been within her bedchamber) to face the one responsible for laying their hands upon her, aforementioned hands were already resting easily upon her shoulders, lifting the veil of muted pink and shifting the silky, wavy locks over to the left side of her face, exposing the right to both the translucent moonlight and his attentions.

Heart thumping wildly beneath her breast, Sakura raised her emerald orbs to be met with the face of her beloved husband, who now cradled her body against his, moulding them together until they seemed to be attached, one being rather than two separate bodies, frosty appendages (_never to retain heat, never to share warmth with another_) holding her in place.

A sweet smile curved at her mouth, lips parting in delight as she thanked him for his succour; he had been more than happy to oblige, and even she could discern the ulterior motive he had had in selecting such an arduous nightie, which was almost as amusing as it was flattering.

He honestly surprised her sometimes!

Purchasing a dress that was clearly not designed to be easily worn, so that he would be given the excuse to aid her, even when he needn't the pretext (she was his wife, after all, and more than willing to cater for his whims and pleasures without the need for pleasantries)?

What a wonderful man her father had bequeathed her!

Her smile only grew at the look of slight embarrassment that overtook the planes of his face (or what she interpreted to be as such; it could have been anything in that light, to be honest), her right arm reaching up to palm his cheek, which naturally leant into the tender touch.

A soft smile, barely there, lifted at his own lips at the utter adoration splayed across her own countenance, and for a moment, Sasuke permitted himself to believe that that look was meant not for her dead love, but for _him_.

Relishing in that thought, he bent down, her petite frame barely reaching his chest as he tilted her face to the left, giving himself further access to the supple flesh of her closest cheek, as well as her throat and neck.

Placing a soft butterfly kiss to her temple, Sasuke worked his way down, brushing his lips over the dip alongside her eye (now heavily lidded), the tip of his tongue wetting the smooth skin as he trailed further, mouth pressing an ongoing barrage of kisses, all varying in pressure and placement, over the camber of her cheek, all teeth and tongue, nipping and sucking his way to the corner of her mouth, inquisitive tongue teasing the parted fold of her lips with a quick flick, retreating when her orifice divided for invasion, a husky chuckle rumbling beneath his chest as she groaned in disappointment, before he continued on his journey southward, further kisses meeting her now quivering chin—a smirk like nothing else was received in light of her impatience—before he began his trek across the fine contours of her exposed neck.

His lips separated, moist kisses running down the curvature of skin and refined muscle as he found her jugular at the base of her throat, teeth pecking at the tender tissue, drawing specks of blood before he sucked harshly, leaving another multitude of colourful bruises across her bared flesh.

Seemingly satisfied with his work, the raven haired demon backtracked, tracing the line of her jowls with his tongue, dragging the wet glossa over the arc of her mandible before dipping it into the waiting cavern, his hands orienting her face to an angle that better suited his mouth slanting fully over hers.

Sakura moaned in compliance, arms snaking up and around his neck so that she could pull his face closer to hers, her own tongue brushing softly, almost shyly, against his own, coaxing him deeper still.

After a few moments, upon which Sakura found herself lacking in breath, she pulled away, a soft gasping becoming audible as she tried to regain what was lost to her, their lips remaining within close proximity.

His breath was the only thing warm about her love, it seemed, but that was okay; she would be the heat that would warm his heart, his soul, and his body in turn, for it seemed to be the only thing she was truly capable of providing him with, aside from sanctuary within her body, and everlasting, undying faith, loyalty and love.

Noting her state of breathlessness, Sasuke took initiative, leading her by hand to the inviting mattress of her bed, before lowering her carefully onto its welcoming planes, her body adjusting to the comfortable settee without any complaint as she reached up for him, beckoning him to join her; it took little convincing on her part to have him meet her demand, as he was already on his knees, crawling up from the bottom of her feet until he was contentedly reclining alongside her, his upper body slanting over her as he continued what she had been forced to desist from, lips askew over hers as he parted her once more with his eager tongue.

His right hand traced the curve of her velvety cheek, pushing stray strands of rebellious hair from her face as he deepened their lip-lock, eyes slipping closed as he relished in the feel of her mouth… _not_ responding to his affections…?

Confused, Sasuke peeked through hooded eyes, only to be met with the painful sight of his lovely 'wife' breathing deep and steady, slowly and peacefully.

Which meant only one thing; her sluggish response of only a few moments ago had been lost in favour of a yawning slumber.

Sakura had fallen into the abyss that was sleep.

Amidst their _almost_ lovemaking.

Almost groaning at the irony of his situation (which now happened to be straining painfully against the pants of his traditional silk yukata, and pressing uncomfortably against her right thigh), Sasuke removed himself from her arms, settling into an equally uncomfortable position with his legs crossed and body upright, as he contented himself with watching her prone form amid dreamland.

Kami she was beautiful; the night apparel that he had chosen suited her well, making her glow even without the presence of the silver moonlight in the room, the way it hugged every voluptuous curve, yet remained true to her innocent nature and overall purity.

It was awfully fitting for her love of flora, and its design had inadvertently reminded him of her, making it an awfully clichéd pun on her name, "spring cherry blossom", so he had to have it.

He had never been schooled in the ways of women or fashion of any kind, but he had a natural affinity for what would flatter a woman and her best assets, whilst not giving the image of an easy ride, and this would be an occasion where that justification would stand strong.

Smiling at the radiance of her youth, Sasuke remained for a while longer, simply at ease with observing her complacency, before he rose to his feet, careful not to disturb her as he slipped away from the room, the lingering kiss on her forehead leaving a lasting mark upon the delights of her dreams yet to come.

* * *

**..**

**..**

**..**

**Do you love me?**

**…**

_**I do not know.**_

**..**

**..**

**..**

* * *

_Her hands shook as she parted the folds of his yukata, shrugging the light material off of his shoulders until it fell around his waist, leaving his torso naked for inspection; deep lines cut into his abdomen, shaping his narrow hips and dividing outward to create a sharp pelvic line that had Sakura parched, and the shapely muscles that packed together to create a multitude of large dips and solid external ridges had her squirming in her place beneath him. _

_Scars were littered expansively over his pallid flesh, some faded and lesser, more dark and substantial, stretching across vast regions of his upper and lower chest alike, the lesions thick and bone-deep, from what Sakura could observe. _

_Some were smooth and fine to the touch, she noted vaguely as she ran hesitant fingertips over the marred skin of his bare chest, whilst the remaining were rough and jagged; most probably wounds received from the roughest of opponents, as was to be expected from any samurai who had lived and thus served the Tokugawa Shogunate. _

_Even so, with all of these flaws openly presented, he was still the most beautiful man she had ever laid eyes upon, his impossibly dark eyes framed by even longer eyelashes never ceasing in their captivation of her, inky hair so rebellious in its placement and yet so naturally alluring that she almost wished to bury her hands in their depths and become lost in them, lips so full and inviting that she wished to kiss them forever, hands that held her close, worshipped her, made her feel warm all over, hands that she wished would hold onto her for all of eternity._

_ Irrespective of the lives that he had undoubtedly taken with those very same appendages, she still loved them, their calloused edges spiking pleasure unimaginable all over her body, invoking reactions that she had never experienced before, and within her own body no less. _

_She loved those hands that had killed, and she loved this man like no other, to no end. _

_Blushing decorously when those very same hands that she adored so completely made their way to the obi securing her kimono in place, she raised her own to help in removing it, hefting her own weight by wrapping her arms around his neck so that he could slip the sash from her body, joining her wooden geta off to the side as he pressed a soft kiss to the tip of her nose, her immediate reaction to scrunch it up and promptly sneeze ripping a sexy chuckle from her lover's chest, the deep rumbling vibrations sending a bolt of fire straight into the ever tightening coil in her tummy as she felt herself grow hot all over, hair raising in pinpricks and she shivered; although it had absolutely nothing to do with being cold. _

_Smiling down at her motionless form, Sai placed his hands at the aperture of the cloth, hoping to pry it apart and reveal the glorious prizes beneath without much protest; to his surprise Sakura folded her own hands over his, eyes remaining downcast as she slid the material away, pausing to slip her sinewy arms back through the long sleeves of her kimono, leaving her naked beneath him with the exception of the thin white slip, which helped to only cover what was below her waistline, having fallen away from her upper body already. _

_Suddenly feeling shy from his intent staring, Sakura lifted shaky arms in order to salvage her pride, but he simply took a hold of them in tender palms, gently brushing them aside so that he could take in her almost nude form completely; round ivory breasts, full and plentiful, enough to fit within his palms without being too excessive in size, dusky pink nipples surrounded by soft rings of a slightly lighter hue, quivering from the sudden uncovering, and raw from the intensity of his ogling. _

_Sakura could die from the embarrassment of such a lewd display, and in the outdoors no less! _

_Unaccustomed to the reactions of her own body, the pinkette jolted roughly when Sai flicked an interested thumb over the risen peak of her left breast, toying with the nub between the aforementioned and his forefinger before introducing the sensitive bud to the warm moistness of his mouth, Sakura's entire frame rising from the very ground and arching further into his cavern as a high pitched keening left her mortified lips, only growing in volume when the other hand snaked between their tangled limbs to the intricate juncture between her thighs, the one that had become wondrously warm and wet from his ministrations, and tingled pleasantly when his fingertips brushed over the sensitised flesh between the two outer folds. _

_The tingles soon turned into a delicious ache that burned to be quelled, an ache that was not satisfied by meagre touches; a long digit slipped deeper still, burying itself between her inner walls and tearing a moan from her lips—but still it was not enough. _

_Not even the addition of further fingers, or the added stimulation to that magical pleasure centre, could sate the growing flames that licked her womb, and heated the fluid that now seeped freely from her. _

_Noting her distress, her raven haired lover dipped lower, pressing kisses to her stomach, a particularly enduring kiss placing itself upon her trembling navel, before descending further still, his head slipping into position between her now parted thighs, nose brushing against that raw protuberance, still amidst delightful spasms, now rejoicing for something that was beyond Sakura's naïve mind to fully comprehend; but her body was well aware, and shifted for the unexpected, the rosette hardly prepared for the tongue that plunged passed her coarse curls and into the depths of her most intimate place, her entire frame jostling and then stiffening almost painfully at the sudden intrusion. _

_A few flicks at that quaking bud at the beginning of her sex with a wandering finger was all Sakura needed to begin squirming, no longer tense as she wound her fingers through his thick black locks, tugging him ever closer to her as she urged him further, the vibrations of his subtle laughter sending pleasure to every inch of her body until she felt an intense coil snapping from within herself, wet, moist heat leaving her as she rode on the waves of ecstasy, drifting slowly but surely back to reality just as she felt something hot, hard and thick against her inner thighs. _

_Peeking through heavily lidded eyes, Sakura noted with idle wonderment that her husband was unabashedly nude; when he had become as such, she had no idea whatsoever, but the fact that she now had a complete view of him, unhindered with the impediment of pants, was both as erotic as it was mortifying, and the pinkette had little idea of what to do next (the blush staining her cheeks having next to nothing to do with her recently achieved orgasm). _

_Sai answered her inexperience in full, positioning himself at her moist opening whilst shielding her nudity from the sudden chill that had settled over them, his hands raising her legs to sling over his waist whilst hers snaked their way around his neck, acting purely out of instinctual reaction as she pulled his forehead to rest against hers. _

_With lips almost touching, Sai tilted his hips downward, parting her with his fingers to make entering her easier, and without any warning, he pushed his way in, as deep as humanly possible, until he had practically hit her womb, his mouth planted over hers and swallowing her scream of pain as he stilled, waiting for her to adjust to the incursion. _

_All the while his lips kissed her tears away, hands cupping her cheeks as she hiccupped from the fit of sobbing she had been retaining within herself, his mouth finding hers again as he tried in vain to comfort her misery. _

_Fingers sought to ease her grief, circling over her pleasure centre until her moans were of gratification, and not of discomfort, her own tongue tangling with his as she undulated her hips towards his, the grinding of their joint sexes forcing groans from their throats as they created a painfully slow rhythm, one that allowed them to completely enjoy one another. _

_The pace never hastened, instead remaining measured, unhurried, the ecstasy felt overwhelming, so much so that it built to a point where it brought upon a state of complete frenzy, whereby feverish kisses were shared, peppered over bare flesh, now dripping with sweat, their joint juices accumulating with the gradual, escalating rapture, her left and his right hand interlacing whilst her other remained tautly wound around his neck, and his left cupped her right thigh to his side so he could ground himself in some way for what was about to come. _

_And come it did, without any prior indication or warning; from a plateaued pleasure, never waning but not quite rising either, to one that exploded with a particularly deep thrust against a place far more sensitive to touch than that of the one found on the outside of her body, Sakura fell over the precipice of ultimate pleasure, her body convulsing with tremors as she cried out, his name a dying mantra on her lips as she slipped down from her high, body warming even further when a thick stream of ardour filled her to the very brim, threatening to spill forth from within her as her beloved collapsed above her, spent, but never the less content. _

_Nothing on earth could have ever have prepared her for such strong feelings, but all that Sakura could ever possibly think or say is that she would never wish to spend such moments with anyone but the man drifting off in her embrace._

* * *

**..**

**..**

**..**

* * *

_Pants, moans, kisses, embraces, _deeper_, _**deeper**_, __**deeper**__ until he feels like he's __**drowning**__… _

_And then—  
_

_**"SAI-KUNNNNNN!"**__  
_

_He visibly stiffens.  
_

_That is not his name.  
_

_NOT HIS NAME._

* * *

**..**

**..**

**..**

* * *

A roar of complete and utter fury is sounded in the quietude of his bedchambers, eyes flashing a dangerous shade of scarlet as his once pristine living quarters are torn apart, with little need on his part to touch anything in order for it to shatter.

Under his rage, all quake, all _scream_, all **die**—all are _vanquished_, just as the furniture and décor, the doors and blinds, the _people he loved_, that fucking _bastard_ of whom owned **her** _everything_, and good _Kami_ did he _despise_ that, _despise_ _**him**_.

The hatred he felt was sent asunder amidst the sound of his heart breaking, ensuring that he would never sleep again.

* * *

*~*TBC*~* 

* * *

**Extra Note: A few things. Firstly, this was extremely difficult to procure, considering how bad my writer's block is right now. **

**Inspiration is currently running at an all-time low, but I am looking into some methods of correcting this, and hopefully enabling more regulated updates, so please bear with me. **

**Secondly, I have images on my profile that can provide a better understanding of what Sakura's nightgown actually looks like; I am absolutely atrocious at describing any form of attire, so it may help to go give it a look, and bear in mind that **_**yes**_**, I am very much so aware that it is actually a wedding dress, designed by Claire Pettibone (I have to say her gowns in this particular series are stunning, and I like the versatility of them; I have used another one of them for *SPOILER ALERT* Sakura's wedding dress, in fact).**

** Thirdly, considering the fact that I am currently on break, and that it is SasuSaku Month (not that I am registered with the prompts or anything; too much pressure, deadlines and the like, and I get enough of that outside of writing as is), I will most likely be posting new oneshots, as well as updating on my other stories, so please look forward to that (if I end up sticking to it, that is; if not, then please forgive me, I'm probably dead). **

**Please leave a review. I have stayed up for two days with an extreme case of insomnia (is worse than it has been for quite a while) just to get this done for you lovely people, and I would love to hear what you think. All are welcome, constructs, all of it. **

**Except for flames. **

**Bring them here, and I'll have you reported. Thank you for reading, and sticking with me guys.**

**Until the next time I update (where I can return to ZERO AUTHOR'S NOTES, YAY)! (:**

**~R**_i_n


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